


Stay Golden!

by Volrosso



Series: Like a Crowbar to the Brain EP [1]
Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Album)
Genre: M/M, Origin Story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-21
Updated: 2016-02-07
Packaged: 2018-05-18 18:47:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5939334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Volrosso/pseuds/Volrosso
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You’re a real show pony, huh?”</p><p>Yeah. He got that a lot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stay Golden!

**Author's Note:**

> Obviously when you have like seven things to update you should start a new project that will undoubtedly take months!!! 
> 
> Anyways, this isn't going to be very nice so here's a warning in advance: there's a lot of drugs. Drug use, drug abuse, overdose. Nothing nice. There will also be abuse of the emotional variety, but nothing too hardcore. Please be aware of this before you start reading, I don't want anyone being uncomfortable!! 
> 
> I just really love Show Pony. I was just gonna write about the four but Pony don't get enough love so here we are. I'm going to be writing one of these for all of the other four, and they're gonna be super long so it'll take more time than usual 'cause it's a lot of writing... on top of my procrastination.
> 
> This is being posted at 2 in the morning and I'm tired of looking at it so I may edit it more if something doesn't make sense this is why okAY

_Guitars_.

Guitars woke him up. Their droning was accompanied by wailing and screaming and lyrics about death and dying. You know, all the stuff nobody wanted to think about right after they woke up from a good dream. And it _had_ been a good dream. One where nothing was hurting him and people understood the merits of techno music.

Outside the dream, back in the real world, nobody cared about techno. If that wasn't tragic enough, it was _raining_. Ricky could hear it outside when the alarm clock gave in to the pounding James was giving it with his closed fist.

Ricky had forgotten James was there for a moment. It was only his arm poking out of the covers, and maybe a few strands of ratty black hair. You wouldn’t know he was there otherwise.

Lucky bastard rolled right over again in an attempt to sleep, but Ricky was awake now. The rain filling up the sudden silence was far too loud for him to ignore.

Rain was the worst and it served no purpose under the dome. All it did was ruin clothes and makeup and days in general. There weren’t even any real plants to be watering around the city! What sort of plant could grow without real sunlight? None of the fake trees they put in parks to remind people what they looked like needed rain to survive. 

But whatever, the pointless rain was outside, and Ricky was inside. There weren’t any windows in James’ room so he wasn't subject to look at it. It was safe in here. Well, as safe as a room full of weird stuff Ricky wasn’t allowed to ask about could be. James had all sorts of machines and devices that beeped and glowed and talked on occasion. Only Kat and him seemed to have any idea about what any of it did though, Ricky and Raven were kept in the dark about it. 

Ricky had always thought of asking about the machines. If they were only being used for video games he'd have no issue kicking James out of here. There would be no downside to that. James' bed was so soft, at least a million times better than the couch Ricky had been exiled to for days now. Big enough for all four of them to sleep in, he kept saying, why wouldn’t James listen to him?

It was James’ fault Ricky was on the couch anyways, the fucker. He was the one being so on-again-off-again with Kat. If he got his shit together Kat would be sharing this room with him and not living in Ricky’s space.

Their fight was dragging the apartment into chaos. Ricky’s time at home was spent huddled up next to Raven, watching shitty old tapes that were technically illegal that James had found somewhere. It had gotten harder to do that with the screaming matches Kat and James got into. Those happened on a twice daily basis and it was hard to stay neutral in the fallout.  

Or, at least, it was hard for Raven to be neutral. Ricky wasn’t neutral in the slightest. In fact, he was probably just making things worse by sleeping with James.

Oops.

James was beside him, his face not two inches away. He was looking up at the ceiling like it held all the secrets to his secret universe. As high as he was, maybe it did. Ricky was looking everywhere but at him, tapping his fingers against the mattress to the sound of the rain.

It was too  _loud_. _Everything_ was too loud. The rain, James' ragged breathing, the beeping and whirring of his mysterious machines. Ricky's senses were buzzing- whether that was a side effect of the pills or of them wearing off he couldn’t tell. Everything felt hot, and the sheets scraped against his skin when he moved so he stayed still as he could. Mercifully, the pounding in his head relented a bit when he did. 

This _sucked_.  

“Dude,” James said after what seemed like an eternity of silence, turning his head. His eyes looked funny, Ricky noticed, the green of them hardly visible, lost in the void of his pupils. It was a common thing. “You gotta work.”

“ _You_ gotta work,” Ricky mumbled in return, rubbing his eyes hard enough to see bursts of colour. He was distracted by that for a moment, until James elbowed him in the side and he shifted away, grumbling. “I don’t see you contributing to society.”

“What are _you_ contributing to society?” James growled, and he did have a point. The city really could live without what Ricky had to offer it. Meanwhile, James had an important job. Only Kat really knew what it was- something with experiments and Better Living. James had said as much on many occasions but he never specified.

And Ricky just… well. He’d never be able to do anything like that. Really and truly, he wasn't much more than a pretty face who knew how to talk. He huffed a laugh, which sounded not so good considering how bad his throat hurt. He couldn’t remember the last time he had anything to drink. Weeks or months. What day was it? When was the last time he’d checked?

“I’m waiting,” James said, not quite ready to let Ricky forget that he had nothing to offer the world. He had that grin on that made it look like his face might crack it was so big, and Ricky had to look away.

“Talk to me when you’re not getting freebies, loverboy.” Ricky snapped, proud of himself for not slurring his words, as thick as his tongue felt and as slow as his brain was. This sucked. He was perfectly comfortable in here, wrapped up in blankets.

It was way too hot and James was in one of his moods where he wanted to be mean for no good reason. That was typical, though, and Ricky could deal with it to stay where he was.

Ricky really did have to go. In a perfect world he'd be free to lie there and pretend that James was going to want him around in another ten minutes. But alas, this wasn't a perfect world, because nobody appreciated techno music and the four of them were broke.

Besides, James was already bored. It was evident with the way he was eyeing his computer, mumbling things to himself. He'd be plugged in again in no time at all, lit up in white from the screen and flickering like a ghost.

So instead of lying there and thinking of all the things that weren’t going to happen, Ricky sat up, determined to get this show on the road.

The routine was in motion. Ricky waved a hand vaguely in James’ direction when he was up and lucid enough to be aware. The other man was half-heartedly searching the bedside table for the pill bottle. He knocked over a glass and a couple other odds and ends before he found it, opening it himself and shaking out two bright little pills.

Ricky got an uncharacteristically serious look when it was passed to him. “Don’t go overboard.”

“You worried about me or what?” Ricky had to tie his hair back, he just _had_ to. It was sticking to his neck and that was just the worst. Raven kept telling him to cut it- he’d be in a lot of trouble if someone saw him with his hair long like that. It wasn't up to code. But whatever, he looked better this way, and he was convinced he needed all the help he could get.  

“How much have you had today?” James was stretching down over the side of the bed to try and retrieve  Ricky rolled his eyes.

“Don’t matter.” Two. He’d be fine with two. Two could get him through the night probably. Maybe three. Three to be safe.

He swallowed the pills dry, which made him cough, and James was laughing at him. Ricky tossed the pill bottle at his head, missing spectacularly. This, of course, made James laugh even harder. It was loud and ugly and grating on Ricky's nerves. 

“These are weak and you should feel bad,” Ricky grumbled before he got up. It was a struggle. All his muscles were sore and his bones hurt- really, how long had they been lying there?

James, as usual, did not care either way. He just banged his whatchamacallit down on the table and laid back, closing his eyes. Ricky wasn’t sure what he saw in a greasy looking hermit with bad hair and a bad attitude who never left the house. He'd been so nice before becoming a recluse. Right after he left the Scarecrow unit was when things had gone south.

Ricky studied James for a moment, trying to think of the last time he'd hear anything nice come from his friend's mouth. Nothing came to mind. He was indifferent as ever, though he was good enough to point out Ricky's shirt on the floor for him. What a sweetheart. 

Ricky didn’t know what to say, so he did what he usually did. He said nothing and he got dressed. Every movement he made got his head yammering angrily at him all over again. On top of that, Ricky was sore and his jeans were too tight and the fabric felt like sandpaper on his feverish skin. It was the worst. He wanted nothing more than to go and lie on the couch now that the illusion had been ruined. It really did take a lot of willpower not to shuck off his clothing and jump back in bed.

James was getting up too, wrapped in a blanket. Most of his clothes had landed just a little bit too far away and there was no way he was venturing that far when he could wrap all the sheets around him to shuffle the few feet it took to get back to his computer. 

That damn computer. Ricky felt like a mother telling him he shouldn’t be on it so much, but it was all James did when he wasn’t out doing whatever it was he did nowadays. Ricky wasn’t even totally sure what he did on the computer all the time. Something with radio frequencies, he had picked up, but hey, he was fine with not knowing.

“Tell Raven not to worry if I’m home late,” Ricky said as he pulled his shirt back on over his head.

James paused in the middle of searching for his headphones, frowning. “You know she’s gonna worry,” he said. 

“She should just worry about herself. But whatever. I’ll be back.” That earned him a sort of half-hearted hand gesture because James had been sucked back into the screen. He looked like an alien in the blue light, eyes blown and wide and ringed with dark circles. Ricky felt like he should say something. Instead, he walked out to finish getting ready.

Raven was in the room she shared with Kat, who wasn’t around, so Ricky was safe for now. He resumed his usual post on the couch just so he could clear his head.  The rain was visible from here, splattering against the windows in big fat droplets that streaked down. The pills had started working just in time, so his head was foggy and he didn't have to think about the rain.

The rest of the getting ready process seemed like a dream. Ricky didn’t even get mad when he nearly poked his eye out with the eyeliner seven times. Once it was on -once he’d covered his face beyond recognition- he even felt a little better.

Everything was light and fuzzy. He didn’t even notice the rain when he went out, just put his headphones on and put his hood up and walked on out without saying goodbye to James, who probably wouldn’t even notice if he left.

For the moment, Ricky didn’t care.

The city was dead all around him. It was well past the curfew now, Ricky wasn’t sure how long but all the patrols were out. They were put off by the hazardous rain enough that he didn’t have to worry about one rushing to catch up with him. Even so, Ricky stuck to the shadows, stepping around splashes of neon from storefront signs loudly advertising Better Living products.

Posters of all sorts adorned walls and streetlamps- _Victory for Battery City! The evil in the desert had been defeated!_ Pictures of the remnants of civilization popping up against the barren desert landscape and Scarecrows holding up assorted masks and helmets like trophies. 

Ricky stopped to consider one with the picture of a triumphant 'crow with a racing helmet under his arm. He’d only heard about the war passing through the living room as Raven soaked it all in on the TV, or when Scarecrows got a little extra chatty when they were taking up his time.

War seemed surreal when you never saw any of it. He always thought it was a little weird that they never showed it on the TV. You’d hardly know there was a war going on at all if you hadn’t had the pleasure of feeling the rumbling of bombs touching down under your feet. Ricky was hyperaware of it every night as he stumbled along home from wherever he’d been that night.

It was still now. No rumbling, no far off noises. Ricky pulled the poster down, folding it up and sticking it in the pocket of his leather jacket for Raven later. She had an odd fascination with whatever was going on outside the walls, no, not Ricky. He kept his head where his heart was, in this wretched place. It was much easier that way.

Besides, there was _nothing_ left beyond the walls.   

He ducked into the alley when lights from the end of the street started reflecting off the windows and metallic walls of the buildings. The city got more run down the further you walked, and he was almost in the part of town he had to be in. There, nobody cared who you were or what you were doing there until the DRACS closed in.

Usually Ricky had Raven with him too, but he was getting used to flying solo. She’d been out of order for too long, it was alarming to say the least. Wandering around by yourself at night was usually a bad idea for anyone. He knew these streets like the back of his hand, he just wasn’t used to having to walk them alone.

No matter, Ricky made it to where he needed to be, where all the people were. Or at least, the crowd he was looking for. Usually all he had to do was walk around here, and that was that. _Que sera sera_. Hard work, right?

The streets weren’t so shiny downtown, towards the border, up close against the dome. The people around weren’t so organic, weren’t so shiny either. There were loads of droids around, hanging around in groups of two and three. They were huddled under any shelter they could find, giggling and covering up with jackets generously donated by clientele as the negotiations went on. Ricky straightened instinctively when he spotted the white out of the corner of his eye, though no ‘crow could turn him in, not here, not off patrol.

Nothing too interesting seemed to be happening. Nobody around seemed overly interesting. He stopped well before he usually did to gauge if it was even worth being out here in the rain now that his hair was wet and he was in a deadly mood. Even the boring music in his headphones had switched off, overtaken by static. James was always telling him to get a functional music player and put some proper music on it, but what did James know about proper music? All he liked was guitars.

It seemed like an eternity of contemplation later before someone finally caught Ricky’s eye, and he decided to stick around. Play it casual, you know. Really, he didn’t care about anything other than the fact that there was a _human_ guy standing right there at the corner with bright blue hair. He’d never seen that before. Well, sure, Blue model droids had hair like that, but there was no way a human would be allowed.

There were pictures of James with dyed hair hidden in a box in Raven’s closet. He’d shaved his head to get rid of it after he resigned from the Scarecrow division so, no more black hair. And of course Raven used to have green hair, before she decided it wasn’t for her. Ricky always envied that droids were allowed a cool hair colour, even if it was just a way for people to tell what model they were. How cool would green hair be?

But here was some guy who obviously didn’t care about laws or codes at all. He had bright blue hair and he was dressed in a funny way, that was definitely another thing worth noticing. He had on a green leather jacket and sunglasses, like someone out of one of those illegal music videos James had on his computer. It was nighttime and he was wearing sunglasses. Who was that much of a tool?

Ricky made a point of not noticing when Blue Hair Boy looked over.  He found interest in the graffiti on the half ruined wall nearby instead. It was actually interesting enough to distract him, a bright and detailed depiction of a giant robot covered in light. Pity that would be scrubbed off in a couple days, it was spectacular. The robot had huge, glowing eyes and a big wide mouth full of wires and was surrounded by smaller, faceless droids. There was something strangely peaceful about it, despite how intimidating it was made out to be.

“It’s the Destroya,” someone said, making Ricky jump. It was the Blue Haired Boy, grinning like a cat. “You know it?”

“Can’t say I do.” Ricky raised an eyebrow at the Destroya. It stared back down at him, huge and ruthless looking. 

“Droid lore, y’know. Apparently it’s supposed to rise again and save us all.” Ricky side eyed the guy, who just winked at him behind his glasses and jammed his hands in his back pockets. “Don’t know how true that is, though. Droids love making things up.”

“Well so do stupid kids like you who talk without thinking,” Ricky said dryly. Of course this guy was one of _those_. Droids weren’t below them, that wasn’t how this worked. Why did people have to act like that was the case?

Blue Haired Boy just studied him for a moment before shrugging. At least he had the decency to look sheepish. “Guess you got a lotta droid friends then?”

“Only one,” Ricky said. Raven was the only droid he could consider a friend, the others he knew out here were acquaintances at best. “That doesn’t mean they don’t deserve our respect.”

“MK talks like that,” Blue Haired Boy said, conversationally, like Ricky must know MK. Sure, him and MK went way back. “Though she’s a droid so it makes sense.”

Ricky wasn’t sure how to respond to that, which was fine because Blue Haired Boy continued. Up close he was more detailed, tinged golden in the flickering streetlamp. His eyes were different colours, one was dark and the other was… blue? It was hard to tell in this lighting, but Ricky was definitely intrigued. “What’s your name,” he asked, mouth quirking up into a very punchable smirk.

“Ricky.”

“You don’t look like a Ricky.”

He’d been told. “It’s short for something that’s not Ricky.”

“That makes more sense.” There was a long pause. “Are you gonna ask my name?”

“Well. I assumed you’d just tell me, sweetheart.”

Blue Haired Boy raised an eyebrow at that. “Pit Viper’s the official title. I’m a singer in a band. Pleasure to meet you.” Pit Viper. Ricky snorted. And James made fun of _his_ name. “Can I take you somewhere? Surely you don’t wanna be out in the rain all night.”

Ricky had to think about that for a moment. This was terrible, because Viper seemed super nice- despite the lack of respect for droids- and if they got anywhere... Well, he told himself not to feel that bad if it came to that as he smiled and nodded.

And so they walked.

Ricky wanted to ask Viper a million questions. Where did he get colourful clothes like that? Where was he headed dressed like that, a costume party? What was that accent he had? It was dumb.

James said that about Ricky’s accent all the time so he had no room to talk, but still.

Instead he kept quiet. Guys liked it when you didn’t talk. They liked silence, and getting down to the point.

Most of them did, at least, Viper seemed intent on talking. He talked about nothing and everything, and Ricky tuned him out when he started on about the weather because what was there to talk about? It rained and it was lukewarm all the time under the dome, that was about it for weather.    

Things only started getting interesting after he was yanked roughly into an alley as a stray DRAC patrol wandered by. Ricky didn’t like being roughly yanked anywhere, for one. He’d been sure he was probably one of the most paranoid people out here but Viper took the cake in that regard. He wouldn’t even look back out until they’d rounded a corner and disappeared, and even then he was on high alert.

“You’re a bit jumpy,” Ricky said offhandedly, and Viper huffed a laugh.

“You would be too if you’d seen what I seen, honey.”

“I see plenty out here, thank you,” Ricky sniffed, which was more than true. He wanted to ask exactly what Viper had seen, but he also really didn’t want to know.

Viper was now going on and on about some band. Maybe it was his band. It had a weird name Ricky didn't recognize- Vacation Adventure Society. What kind of band name was that?

Ricky tuned him out again because sure, music was cool and all, just not the music from the city. They just played the same three songs on the radio over and over here, it was nothing like the illegal stuff James had shown him that he'd fallen in love with. How could anyone be excited about music in the city?

…He was especially unimpressed when Viper stopped walking, next to a car that was breaking at least seven violations by existing. Ricky stopped in his tracks. There was no way this guy wasn’t wasting his time.

 “Do you like it?” Viper grinned, rapping his knuckles on the brightly painted hood.

“It’s very…” Ricky wasn’t sure what to say. He knew nothing about cars, but he did know that this one was not an approved issue. Even without the bright pink heart painted on the hood and the various other designs scattered around the doors and the trunk. “…Illegal.”

“That she is. You wanna go for a ride? We can go anywhere you want.”

Sheesh. Did he make a habit of picking up random guys and driving them around? Was that what people with cars did?

“This ain’t really my style, honeybee,” Ricky said hesitantly, feeling just a little bit bad when Viper’s smile slipped a bit. He’d seen enough horror movies to know not to get in a car with a random stranger like this. But what if the stranger was really nice and super interesting?

God, why couldn’t Raven be out here with him to talk him through this?

“You sure? I know a way out to the desert-”

“You wouldn’t catch me dead in the desert, doll,” Ricky laughed, cutting Viper off quickly. Sand was his enemy. The heat was even worse. “Seriously, are you gonna get on with it or not, ‘cause I have a bed back home that’s calling my name.”

Viper raised an eyebrow. “Is that an invitation?”

“I don’t think my roommates would be fond.”

“Ah. You get used to it.” Viper waved a hand, leaning back against the car. “Mongoose has had people I didn’t even know in the car while I slept in the front seat! That’s dedication if ever I saw it.”

“In the car?”

“In the car,” Viper confirmed with a nod. “The best way to go about things.”

Finally. They were getting to the point. Ricky found that he was a bit tongue tied at the moment. Usually this was when he was supposed to mumble some half-assed line under his breath and go in for the kill. Viper was too distracting to do that. There was just something _about_ him.

“I like you,” Viper said, catching Ricky off guard. “I think you’re pretty.” When he looked away Ricky just assumed the moment for making a move had passed. He was getting a lot of weird mixed signals from the way Viper wasn’t even looking at him, more focused on the fake sky over their heads. Hey, at least the rain had let up.

“I don’t think someone like you belongs here,” Viper said after a moment, looking back at Ricky. Ricky was ready and raring to ask just _who_ Viper thought he was after knowing him for half an hour. He wanted to be irritated, he really did. This was all a big waste of time that would get James yelling at him later, but there was something about Viper. He was rough at the edges, something you just didn’t see in the city. Ever.

“I kinda wanna kiss you,” Ricky said, and he meant it. Maybe it was just the drugs, who could say. He just had an idea in his head that it would be nicer than kissing most of the people he’d had to kiss in recent memory.

“You can, if you wanna.” Viper grinned. Ricky would usually follow that up with a one liner or some comment about something irrelevant but his mind was blank. Blank in a good way, at least.   

So instead of talking, he closed the already-limited space between them and kissed Viper, like he knew he was supposed to. Usually this was the hardest part because things tended to go numb after this. But kissing Viper was tolerable- like kissing a real life person. ‘Crows always left a bad taste in his mouth when he was done with them, one way or another.

He wasn't starstruck enough not to do his job however. He let his hands wander, though Viper didn't have a lot on him outside something moderately heavy in a holster on his hip, covered up by his jacket, holy fuck was that a _gun?_ Ricky could do with a ray gun. Apparently Viper was more starstruck than Ricky because he didn't report the sudden lightness of his holster, or maybe he didn't register it. 

“Come with me,” Viper said when Ricky pulled back to tell him that this was a terrible idea, being out here like this. He made a quick excuse to go rifling through his messenger bag and Viper said nothing about it. That was that. Ricky had his gun. 

But really, who did Viper think he was? This wasn’t a movie, there was no way Ricky would go driving off with someone he didn’t even know. There was nowhere to go.

“Seriously, it’s better out there. It’s harder sure but you’re free. Don’t you wanna be free?” Viper was getting a little intense. It wasn't scary, just unsettling, like he truly believed there was life out there. Which there wasn't. Silly boy. 

Ricky tried to laugh it off. “Do you say that to everyone you pick up?”

Viper wasn’t having it though, his mismatched eyes stayed intense, and Ricky was getting a bit nervous. “You think I’m joking, but I’m not.”

“There’s no way people are living out there. You _can’t_ live out there.”

Viper raised an eyebrow. “And who told you that? The people in charge of keeping you in here?”

Point. James had told him that too, though, had drilled it into him. _Don’t you mind what’s out there, Ricky, because it’s nothing you should pay attention to._ Pretty boys sat on their hands and did their jobs, that’s what Ricky did.

There was nothing out there.

He barely registered the sirens when they started, just that Viper was shaking his shoulders, pleading with him. “Don’t waste your life away like this, you don’t have to! I know you don’t trust me, you have no reason to, but I can get you out of here!”

Raven was back home. He’d have to go back home.

“Please- oh my god would you just-”

Ricky pushed him off, scrambling out of Viper’s range when he made to grab for him again. There was nothing out there, he was a liar.

_There was nothing out there._

Ricky’s body knew what to do long before he did. He was running before he even realized that it was what he should be doing. Sure, Viper had a car, but god knew where he was going to go with it. He couldn’t be trusted, nice as he seemed on the outside. So instead of looking back, Ricky just kept running, letting Viper’s panicked yelling get drowned out in the sirens behind him.

You don’t have to stay here! It’s a big ol’ world out there past the walls, don’t you wanna see it? And true, that was enough to make him pause. As much as he tried to push it down, Ricky had always clung to the hope that there might be something out there for him. He told himself time and time again that it was hopeless, but still the idea appealed to him.

Realistically, if there _had_ been something, how could it still be there? The remnants of the society out in the desert had to be gone by now, bombed out remains of a world that had been forgotten about. Nothing but skeletons. Skeletons weren't worth getting worked up. 

There had been a war! There was just no way that anyone was out there living in that wasteland. Once you got past the severe radiation and the horrible air quality and lack of resources, your chances were just dismal. It was unfathomable.

And yet.

Ricky wasn’t paying attention as he ran, something that should never happen. You had to be aware of everything while you were out here at this time of night. He realized that just as he collided headlong with a Scarecrow. All in white, about ten million feet high, deer in the headlights expression. Curly hair like a halo around his face, and Ricky stared up at him for a moment before remembering himself. 

“Sorry,” Ricky managed, and he was running again, though his lungs were burning and his vision was blurring at the edges and oh god, what if he was being chased now? When did Scarecrows get so painful to run into? Everything hurt and the sirens were too loud and bright. The neon colours of the signs were making his head hurt.

But he made it, he closed the door behind him and the world went quiet. Ricky was soaked through and shivering violently and he just sat there with his back against the door. Typical day at the office. 

Breathing was good. Breathing was fine. Raven was saying things but her voice was a billion miles away and he couldn't see her all that well. All he could really do right now was sit and try to breathe, clutching the key around his neck to his chest. The jagged edge of the key dug into his palm, keeping him aware and awake. It was familiar. Familiar was good in these situations. 

Raven was a blur of black and white and red. He could sort of feel it when she touched him, she wasn’t warm and she wasn’t organic but she was familiar and comforting and it calmed his nerves just a little bit.

“Are you okay? You didn’t do anything stupid?” She was right in front of him, brushing wet hair out of his face. “Are you seeing things?”

Probably not. Usually when he saw things they were scary or incredibly upsetting, he'd be able to tell if he was. He tried to focus on Raven's face until the roaring in his ears went down and the world stopped spinning so fast.

“Where did you get this?” Raven’s voice was soft. She looked worried. He hated making her worried. She was talking about the sunset coloured gun in her hand, maybe. He had no recollection of her going through his bag. He also had no recollection of the gun being that colour, that made it _super_ illegal. 

“Do people live out there?” Ricky didn’t have to specify; the reaction was immediate. Raven’s pretty face scrunched up and her mouth pressed into a line. “Raven. Do people _live_ out there.”

“I couldn’t tell you.” She hung by, fretting as he pushed himself back up to his feet. “Are you okay? Really?”

“Trouble with some ‘crows.” Ricky waved her off. “Nothing a few pills won’t fix.”

He didn’t think about Viper for the rest of the night. Didn't let himself.  He changed into dry clothes and sat with Raven on the couch watching terrible shows until his brain felt numb. Thinking about the desert in such a way would just make things worse, just the way thinking about finding Ángel did. There was no way there was anything out there anyways, something James repeated to him soon as he got in.

That didn’t stop him from getting Raven to help hide the gun. You know, just in case. When he drifted off he was sprawled across Raven’s lap, in the middle of an integral scene in their shitty telenovela. He didn’t get to see Maria get reunited with her birth father.

His dreams were full of colour and Ángel and music.

It was almost painful to wake up. Raven wasn’t there, but James was.

“Get that shit off your face, you look like a raccoon,” was all he said before he left, and then Ricky was alone to not think about the desert for as long as he wanted.  


End file.
